


Leave a Little Light On

by bikuai



Series: Jesse McCree Ain’t No Lost Cause [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackwatch Era, Emotional Support Puppets, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse McCree has low self-esteem, Jesse McCree has no parents, Puppets, Sad Jesse McCree, a mention of vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bikuai/pseuds/bikuai
Summary: When things get black, leave a little light on.Or have a mini therapy session with some puppets. Whichever one works.
Relationships: Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada, Jesse McCree & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes
Series: Jesse McCree Ain’t No Lost Cause [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820152
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	Leave a Little Light On

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never played OW, so I took a lot of creative liberties with this fic.
> 
> Obligatory title song: Leave a Little Light On by Phantom Planet

“Yknow, you did really good on this last mission, Jesse. I appreciate all the hard work you put into this team.”

“I agree, commander: Jesse has been a huge help, especially in the field,” another voice remarks.

“My research might have been delayed if McCree hadn’t rescued these specimens. His aid is essential to the functioning of Blackwatch,” yet another voice comments.

McCree chuckles half heartedly, shimmying his left hand out of the Moira O’Deorain puppet and back into the one resembling Commander Reyes.

“I think you deserve a promotion, Jesse! You should be my second-in-command,” the Gabriel puppet announces. “I’m sure Genji wouldn’t mind stepping down.”

McCree sniffles then raises his right hand and begins flapping the lips of his puppet-self.

“Really, boss? You think I’m ready for that? I’d love to be your right hand man!” Despite the puppet being of himself, McCree uses an exaggerated cowboy accent. It’s just fitting. Puppet Jesse continues: “We should probably check with Genji first, though, just to make sure he’s alright with it.”

Tossing the Reyes puppet aside, McCree snakes his hand into the Genji puppet. He tries hard to swallow the lump in his throat before imitating the ninja’s voice.

“Don’t worry, Jesse. I’m totally cool with you being second-in-command. You’ve worked so hard for it! No one else in Blackwatch is as determined as you.”

At this point, McCree cannot restrain the bitter, angry tears that spring to his eyes. He tears the puppets off his hands in frustration. They usually never fail to lighten his mood but not this time. He growls as he rubs the heels of his palms into his eyes, stemming the flow of tears.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” He mumbles through clenched teeth.

He removes his hands and looks down at his crossed legs, where his puppets innocently gaze up at him. Their big, glassy eyes shine under the feeble light from the lamp on his bedside table. McCree envies their happiness, even if it is artificial. Hell, their smiles look a lot more genuine than the facade McCree has put up around the team recently. Not that anyone has noticed, he thinks.

The rest of the room is bathed in warm shadows. It’s not half as messy as it usually is, thanks to some heartfelt advice from the Genji puppet. All McCree’s souvenirs, mementos, and knick-knacks are packed away into boxes along the wall, leaving the room uncharacteristically bare. His shirts and pants and uniforms are arranged within his closet; he even got a set of hooks for his various serapes. Only his bed remains messy, sheets strewn haphazardly, draping to the floor. McCree doesn’t mind it, though. 

A knock on his door startles him from his emotionally-induced mind-ramble. He scrambles to cram the Puppet Blackwatch back into the shoebox from whence they came. It’s hard when there are still tears pooling in his eyes. McCree slaps the lid onto the box then lifts the curtain of bedsheets to slide it under his bed. Once the box is safely hidden, he moves to stand, swaying as he grabs his hat off the bed.

The knocks continue as McCree furiously wipes away his tears with his sleeves. He puts on his hat and pulls the brim low over his tear-streaked face.

He presses the button to open the door. Genji waits on the other side.

“The commander wants to know if you’re okay.”

McCree’s fists clench, a renewed wave of anger rolling through him. “And he sent you instead of coming here himself? Fuckin’ coward.”

His western accent is thick with frustration. Genji shifts awkwardly.

“He said, and I quote, ‘tell Jesse I’m hard on him because I care.’ And he also mentioned that he didn’t think you’d react the way you did to what he said.” 

There’s a long break of silence between the two. Part of McCree reads the truth in the commander’s words, but the rest of him can’t accept such an indirect apology. He’s conflicted, and his expression becomes unreadable as he instinctively crosses his arms over his chest.

Genji, not used to seeing McCree so quiet, starts again: “I didn’t know you were adopted.”

A tinge of guilt seeps through his words. After all, he was there for most of the conversation, and as second-in-command, he didn’t once intervene on McCree’s behalf. Genji just watched as Reyes laid into the cowboy.

McCree barks out a laugh without any humor behind it. “I  _ wasn’t _ adopted. That’s kinda the issue.”

Genji doesn’t have a response to that. McCree sees his silence as an opportunity to end the conversation. His hand moves to close the door.

“Wait,” Genji says. It comes out as a plea more than a demand. Genji meets McCree’s teary eyes. “I...I care about you too, Jesse. I’m worried, and so is the commander.”

Genji looks away, taking a deep breath then starting again. “You’re an important part of our team…and you work a lot harder than we give you credit for. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything when Gabriel was yelling at you.”

McCree, suddenly very meek, nods. He didn’t expect such an apology from Genji, and the ninja’s sincerity caught him off guard. “It’s alright. I think I just need some time.”

Genji nods. “I understand, and uh...I’ll see you around.”

“Mhm.”

The door shuts.

McCree goes back to his place on the floor and pulls out the box of puppets. He slides his own puppet back onto his right hand then puts the puppet commander on his left. In his mind, he recounts the words Gabriel had said to him earlier that day.

_ “Jesse! Your parents didn’t teach you anything about discipline, respect, or responsibility! That’s why you’re not fit to be second-in-command.” _

_ “Yeah, they didn’t! Maybe ‘cause I never knew them.” _

The room had become very silent after that. Then McCree, raw from revealing such a bitter part of his past, stormed off.

The memory brews a typhoon of emotions in his chest, but he pushes them down in order to get into character. He clears his throat before attempting an impression of Commander Reyes.

“I’m sorry, Jesse. I didn’t know you were adopted,” Puppet Gabriel says, looking down sadly.

Puppet Jesse shakes his head. “I ain’t adopted! Why does everyone think that?”

The puppet commander looks up in surprise. “Not adopted? Then what are you? An alien?”

“No! I was in foster care all my life. At least, up until I ran off to join Deadlock. You could say that that was my first real family. I think you know the rest of the story from there,” Puppet Jesse explains.

“Wow, Jess, I had no idea. I really shouldn’t have said what I did,” Gabriel admits. “Hindsight is always 20/20 I guess.”

The two puppets nod solemnly as their puppeteer sheds silent tears.

“Well,” Puppet Gabriel says as he puts a hand on Puppet Jesse’s shoulder. “You were never adopted then?”

“Yeah, boss, that’s what I just said.”

Gabriel hums in thought. “Hear me out, kid. What if—and this is purely hypothetical—I adopted you. How ‘bout it?”

Puppet Jesse is about to open his mouth to respond when a series of quick buzzes are heard from the top of the nightstand: his phone. McCree sighs in exasperation. It’s probably a reminder for a mission or a meeting or a training session. All of which sound terrible, given his current mental state. Puppet Jesse all but vores the phone as McCree grabs it from the nightstand, almost knocking over his lamp in the process. He looks down at his lock screen.

One new text from Commander Reyes. It reads only: I’m sorry.

Another notification pops up as soon as the first one fades. This time a reminder. It reads: Tomorrow, 16:00 - Shooting range w/ Reyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I wish there was an anti-kudo button so I could downvote my own works.
> 
> Edit: I can’t believe y’all keep showing my writing so much love...thank you so much!!!


End file.
